


Guilt

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom thinks about the total cost of ending the war the way he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilt

Tom shakes and shudders every night.  It is something that Cochise is used to, but he had hoped that once the fighting had ended, Tom’s nightmares would at least lessen in frequency and intensity. 

Over time, Tom begins to avoid sleep.  He stays up late pouring over his books and writing until he falls asleep at his desk, which means Cochise has to carry him to bed and carefully take his clothes off.  It reminds him of how Tom used to behave back in Charleston when he was President, except Tom’s eyes are more haunted now and his face has deeper lines. 

“Tom, I need to talk to you,” Cochise says one evening when it seems like Tom is going to work himself to exhaustion again.  His health is in danger.

“What’s up?” Tom asks, looking up from his books. 

“Come with me,” Cochise says, taking him by the hand and leading him to their bedroom. 

“Ooh, you don’t want to _talk_ ,” Tom says, unbuttoning his pants. 

“I do wish to talk,” Cochise says.  He is fairly certain that Tom would fall asleep if they attempted to engage in sex right now. 

“Are you okay?” Tom asks as he sits on their bed.

“It is you I am worried about,” Cochise says.  “You are not receiving adequate amounts of sleep.”

“I have so much work to do, Cochise,” Tom says, looking towards the door.  “So much history to record.”

“You need sleep, and as much as I appreciate your devotion to your history, your health is more important,” Cochise says.  “I have noticed that when you do sleep, it is not well.  Your nightmares have only increased with frequency since the end of the war.”

Tom presses his lips together and looks away from Cochise.  “Yeah.”

“Please, talk to me,” Cochise says, squeezing his shoulder.  “I am scared for you.”

“I killed them _all_ , Cochise,” Tom says quietly.  “I caused so much death in mere seconds.”

“Yes,” Cochise says, confused.  “You were aware that that is what the device would do, and it was our goal.”

“I didn’t think about it, until after,” Tom says.  “What that really meant.”

“And what does that mean?” Cochise asks, rubbing his back. 

“The skitters and the hornets were slaves, Cochise.  They didn’t have a choice in what they did- some of them used to be human,” Tom says miserably. 

“You did not cause their fates,” Cochise says.  “And we saw what happened to them when there was no Overlord to control them- they became uncontrolled and feral.”

“But we also know that they can fight that!” Tom says, looking up at him.  “We worked with the rebel skitters and they were good allies.  What if there were more rebels somewhere?  More innocents that I killed?”

Cochise considers Tom’s moral dilemma.  He wishes that he had been able to do this for Tom because he would have no such moral reservations.  The concern seems somewhat silly to Cochise, but he will not brush Tom’s concerns aside.

“You should not torture yourself with what you _might_ have done,” Cochise says.  He cups Tom’s cheek and carefully eases his face so they are looking each other in the eye.  “You saved billions of lives.  The Espheni have caused destruction so immense that I do not know how to explain it to you.  My people are going home for the first time in generations because of you.”

“But I still committed genocide,” Tom says, shuddering.  “I still killed untold billions of lifeforms.”

“You saved your people and mine and many others.  There are whole worlds that will never know the devastation your people and mine have endured because of what you did,” Cochise says.  “I am sorry that you must carry this burden, and I understand that you cannot celebrate so much death, but you saved so many lives.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, imagining all the death I caused,” Tom says, smiling bitterly.  “You know, when I was a kid, I always wanted to do something big.  Something _historic_.  Now I’ll be remembered as a mass murderer.  It’s not the legacy I wanted.”

“You will be remembered as a hero,” Cochise says.  “You will be celebrated, not just for that singular act, but for your acts of bravery before that moment, and for the contributions to your people you will make going forward.”

“I’m just going to be a professor for the rest of my life.  No more historic acts,” Tom says.  “I don’t want that anymore.”

Cochise leans forward and kisses Tom’s forehead.  “I am certain that your people will require your wisdom again and you will give it.”

Tom’s lips are quivering as his eyes start to fill with tears.  “Will you turn off the lights?”

Cochise stands up and crosses the room to turn the light off before returning to bed.

“Will you take our clothes off so we can go to bed?” Tom asks, voice catching.

Cochise gently undoes the buttons on Tom’s shirt.  Buttons are hard for him to manipulate, particularly in the dark, but Tom is ever patient. 

Once Tom’s shirt is undone, Cochise carefully slides it down his arms.  He pulls up Tom’s undershirt as well, gentle as he pulls it over Tom’s head. 

Tom’s body is pale in the dim moonlight that filters through their skylight as Cochise pushes him gently onto his back so he can remove Tom’s pants as well.  He’s attentive as his fingers skim up Tom’s body, enjoying the feel of his skin.

After Tom is undressed, Cochise quickly disposes of his own clothing.  Usually, he likes to take care with their clothing, but tonight he drops it all on the floor, secure in the knowledge he will take care of it in the morning.

“I wish I could forget so many things,” Tom murmurs once he is pressed securely against Cochise’s chest. 

Cochise can feel that Tom is crying, but he does not mention it.  “I understand that in some ways your burdens are yours alone, just as I must live with some of the actions I have taken that no one else can understand.  But you must remember that no matter what burdens you carry alone, you are not alone, and that I will help you carry any burden I can.”

“You do,” Tom murmurs. 

“You must attempt to sleep regular hours from now on.  You require your rest,” Cochise says.  “Is there any way that I can help you sleep better?”

“Will you talk to me?” Tom asks.  “In English, in Volm, it doesn’t really matter.  I just want to know you’re here.”

“Of course,” Cochise says, switching over to Volm as he begins to speak. 

It is better to speak to Tom in Volm if he does not want Tom’s inquisitive nature to take over.  Even when exhausted, Tom is a creature of many questions. 

Tom still shakes and shudders in his sleep, making sad and scared noises.  His eyes are still haunted and he still tries to avoid sleeping if Cochise is not vigilant. 

Over time, however, these symptoms lessen.  Tom sleeps more, laughs easier, and looks healthier.  It is good to see.

Cochise understands that with Tom’s human compassion, it is unlikely that he will ever celebrate how he saved his planet and his galaxy.  But he hopes that one day, Tom will be okay with it. 


End file.
